


In This Light and On This Evening

by LadyLuckDoubt



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: M/M, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-18
Updated: 2011-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-17 01:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLuckDoubt/pseuds/LadyLuckDoubt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Klavier sleeps, Daryan and Kristoph have sex in the next room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In This Light and On This Evening

**Author's Note:**

> _Kristoph and Daryan fuck when Klavier's sleeping in the other room. Don't care about who's fucking who, as long as they both stay relatively IC while doing so._
> 
>  _I KNOW THIS CAN HAPPEN. I HAVE FAITH IN ANON._
> 
> That was what someone on the Kink Meme wanted. I hope they're IC enough.

Daryan had heard about him.

The way Klavier always spoke about his older brother, it was like Kristoph was some sort of  _hero_. Which always amused him; Klavier was a fricken genius, one of those child prodigies-- and here he was, always going on about that older brother of his, like they were friends and stuff.

Daryan had older brothers, he knew how older brothers were. They ignored you for the most part and had lives of their own and when they'd come to visit, they wrestled with you when you were a kid, and taunted you about your height and puberty as you grew up. He hadn't seen either of them since last year-- and he wasn't particularly upset.

He'd briefly mentioned them to Klavier before; you know, that casual conversation you make with your friends about family life-- he'd sort of shrugged them off because that's what you did-- what the hell was family, anyway?-- and he'd been rewarded with a sad, confused look from his best friend and another spiel about how wonderful Kristoph was.

"He helped me prepare for the bar exam," Klavier had gone on, "Really, man, he's  _excellent_..."

That was the other thing: of  _course_  Klavier couldn't just have his sights set on being a cop or something, and being a rockstar on the side until they either grew out of it or the rockstar career overshadowed the policing one-- no-- he wanted to be a fricken  _lawyer_  as well. At  _seventeen_. Daryan was never sure if he was jealous of Klavier, irritated by his almost childlike enthusiasm and high-level success, or if he felt a quiet, weird sort of  _special_ being accepted as his closest friend out of everyone around-- the genius who was already at the end of a law degree and who had his sights on being a Serious Musician-- he'd chosen  _him_ \-- Daryan Crescend, the scruffy rocker kid with the long black hair and the sarcasm-- as a best friend.

They did practically everything together when they could. They spent weekends studying, (even if they didn't talk that much because Klavier was always in the middle of an essay or studying for a test-- and Daryan always felt a need to stay close academically-- he mightn't have been a genius, but there was no way ever he was going to  _fail_  in front of his best friend who'd already completed high school years ago), they showed up at the same parties together, they liked the same people, they despised the same people, and they were their own tight-knit, closed circuit clique, the two kids who loved rock music and outlandish clothing and guitars. 

The way other people looked at them, they might have already been famous.

They didn't  _always_  agree on everything, and in the years they'd been friends, they'd had the typical rivalries and issues of competition: attention and girls tended to be the two main areas where they clashed-- music was another. But whatever their differences, they tended to get over them quickly-- they were best friends, after all-- and they needed one another. They knew the little intricacies of one another-- and their lives-- all too well.

Daryan's mother said that they were the only two people in the world who could put up with each other for a decent length of time.

  
So it was curious, then, that Daryan had yet to encounter Klavier's older brother. He'd met the Gavin parents on occasion; sensible, wealthy and painfully polite types who had a soft exterior which could have been learned in some kind of rich-people etiquette school. They seemed to know little about what went on in Klavier's life beyond the fact that he was a genius and had just completed a law degree, and Klavier had admitted that he preferred to keep it that way.

The one who knew everything was his rock-solid confidante-- Kristoph. 

But Kristoph often seemed to be out-- at school, at college, at work-- and eventually at  _his own_  apartment. Daryan had never understood why Klavier had been miserable when he moved out, nor why he perked up considerably when his older brother had moved closer to home.

"You really have to meet him, Dar-- he wants to meet  _you_." Klavier had made that pleading face at him, the one that won over people-- teachers and authority figures and people who he wished to fool around with. Daryan  _hated_  that face.

"Why?" he'd asked suspiciously. "He's not gonna suss me out, is he?" He crossed his arms. "If he was so interested in me, maybe he could have said hello a few years ago, right?" He narrowed his eyes. "Lemme guess-- he's a lawyer-- he thinks the Gavinners might be onto something and he wants to be the band's legal muscle, does he?"

Klavier laughed. "He's a defense attorney," he said. "And... no. He just wants to meet you. He's bought this new apartment and he wanted me to see it and asked if I had a girlfriend to bring along and I said no and he suggested you..."

  
Daryan couldn't keep the suspicion out of his voice; the admission that Kristoph had suggested a  _girlfriend_  and then  _him_  in the absence of one seemed to be... projecting an image that he didn't care for. "How much does he know?" he snapped.

"Oh, he knows that I'm bi," Klavier said breezily. "He asked if I was putting it on just to shock our parents."

He didn't need to explain that it wasn't any kind of an act. Daryan  _knew_. Hell, there'd been that time when they were fourteen and they'd fooled around a bit after a few half a bottle of tequila and a bout of drunken flirting and silliness, where raging hormones and the alcohol had gotten the better of them for an evening.

It had been about four years ago, but Daryan still remembered it clearly. "You didn't tell him about  _that_ , did you?"

Klavier nodded, knowing exactly what the  _that_  was. 

Daryan swore loudly.

"Relax-- Kristoph is cool-- he didn't mind. He's happy for me as long as  _I'm_  happy." He chuckled, the subject sorted in his mind-- "He said he was thinking of getting me a car for my eighteenth, you know?"

"I know," Daryan said stiffly. "You told me when he first mentioned it-- oh-- and you've mentioned it at several other points, too."

Klavier grinned as they walked towards the apartment building, trying to ease his best friend's tenstion. "Honestly, Dar-- he's cool. He'll think you're great," he offered as means of assurance. Finding Kristoph's number on the panel of doorbells to his left, he pressed his brother's-- and waited.

He'd seen pictures of him, of course, but the reality of him was different. Kristoph was like a bizarre fusion of both Klavier and his parents; he had that same frozen grace about him that the adult Gavins seemed to possess, the same sort of even tempo to his voice, and he wore a smart blue suit which managed to be both businesslike and yet distinctly noticeable. 

"Klavier." He seemed pleased to see him; and appeared to have arrived quickly at the front door to let them in. Daryan noticed his friend offer the older man a warm, typically enthusiastic hug-- to his surprise, Kristoph reciprocated. They moved apart and Kristoph's attention then turned to him.

"This is my best friend-- Daryan," Klavier said with a smile. "Daryan-- Kristoph."

"I've heard so much about you," they both said in unison, and Daryan wasn't sure if Klavier noticed it or not, but there was a distinctly  _reserved_  vibe both were giving one another. And then there was the smile that followed which Klavier-- who'd rushed ahead in excitement-- missed entirely.

Daryan wasn't sure what to think when someone looked at him like that.

  
The evening had been pleasant enough, he supposed. After the "grand tour" of Kristoph's apartment, they'd eaten before retiring to the living room for post-dinner drinks. Daryan admitted to himself that Klavier had been right-- Kristoph  _was_  a cool older brother-- he was interested in their lives and laid back, unshockable and casually friendly. He had a dry sense of humour and sometimes turned it on to Klavier and his outlandish behaviour-- and he seemed interested in, and engaged with Daryan easily. He didn't come across as nosy, or like an older brother watching the kind of company his younger brother kept-- no-- he just seemed to take Daryan in as another person, someone on his level to share a drink and a conversation with.

They hadn't noticed when Klavier had slipped out of the conversation, either-- while they'd been engaged in a passionate discussion about music (both couldn't understand Klavier's affection towards mindless pop, but Kristoph also couldn't appreciate the edgier rock and electronic music Daryan preferred) Klavier had slowly drifted off-- and it was only when Kristoph pressed his finger to his lips, uttered an amused "shh" and glanced over at his younger brother that Daryan was aware that he was snoring quietly.

Daryan smiled and got out of his chair.

"You think I should wake him?" he asked.

"Don't bother," Kristoph said. "I'd have preferred him to have slept in the guest room, but I suppose you know as well as I do what happens if he's disturbed while sleeping."

Daryan knew. Klavier was a painfully light sleeper and a distraction would keep him awake for hours, despite the fact that he was tired. 

"He must have been tired if he fell asleep like that," he agreed.

"He's been studying for the bar exam," Kristoph said knowledgeably, "I suspect it's taken a lot out of him." He got up and turned to the cupboard beneath the large ornate book case behind him, opening a concealed door and removing a blanket. "He can stay where he is."

"I didn't know he was sleeping over," Daryan said. He suddenly felt intrusive being awake with Kristoph like this; wasn't he meant to go home and let them have family togetherness time or something?

"He didn't tell you? I'd told him he could spend the night, and that he was welcome to invite a  _friend_  if he so desired."

Daryan watched as Kristoph awkwardly draped the blanket over Klavier's shoulders and chest as the younger Gavin remained oblivious and asleep. He inhaled sharply at the emphasis on the word  _friend_  and its implication.

"We're not like that, me and Klavier," he said defensively, folding his arms.

Kristoph merely raised an eyebrow. "He does talk about you a great deal," he replied coolly.

"I'm his best friend." He shrugged, aggressively as though it was adding emphasis to  _his_  statement. "We're not all  _faggy_ , Kristoph."

Kristoph chuckled to himself, looking at Daryan curiously. 

"Yeah," he said, not quite looking the older man in the eyes, "I know he's told you about that thing that happened years ago, but it's not like  _that_  with him. He thrives on  _female_  attention."

He was surprised at the way he'd sounded so  _jealous_  when he'd made that comment. Kristoph said nothing and raised another eyebrow. "He thrives on attention full stop," he said quietly, a smirk in his voice, as though considering something which Daryan wasn't quite certain about.

"Come on--" he added, "I'll show you where the guest room is."

He'd so automatically assumed that Daryan was also spending the night, even though it had never been stated before, and Daryan was caught up in the idea, not sure how to step back and refuse-- he hadn't considered how or when he'd be going home; Klavier always seemed to have a plan for everything, and he assumed that his best friend would have thought this through.

He followed Kristoph across the room to a door which had been neglected on the earlier tour of the apartment, and watched as Kristoph flicked on a light. "I supposed the two of you would be sleeping in there," he said. He sounded almost disappointed, as though he'd really thought about it.

"I can wake up Klavier--" Daryan said uncertainly, his voice somehow having trouble getting out. Where had his confidence disappeared to? "If you want me to."

Kristoph smiled sightly, teeth flashing for a moment. He had great teeth, white and even and shining, beautifully shaped, smooth and subtle and yet  _perfect_. Just like the rest of him. 

Daryan hated thinking like that. Dammit, he liked  _girls_. Not dudes. Memories he wished he'd repressed rushed back to him from long before; Klavier and his then-clumsy hands on him, a drunken giggle about the size of his dick...

"Don't," Kristoph said gently. "He'll wake up when he does, and he'll have an easier time going back to sleep when it is on his conditions. He's like that when it comes to  _everything_." 

Kristoph smiled again, seemingly oblivious to the way Daryan was so  _tense_  and to the conversation which had gone before.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed now," he said, the confidence back in his voice. "I mean, no offense, man, you're nice and all, but you probably have stuff to do and Klavier's already asleep, you know?"

Kristoph nodded, smiling again. "I wish you a good night then, Daryan," he said quietly, as he closed the door.

 

 

He lay in the darkness, staring at the ceiling. There was a slight gap underneath the door where the floor didn't quite meet the edge of the door' light from the living room peeked in and he could hear movement behind him.

He'd undressed, mentally cursing Kristoph for bringing back earlier memories about Klavier; that shit was dead and buried; Klavier liked dudes because it made girls more interested, he himself... wasn't sure. A pretty face was a pretty face, and when you considered it properly, a guy would probably be better at some things, like talking about music and being able to give blowjobs and stuff-- but he wasn't gay. Best friends fooled around with one another as teenagers, right? Softcore porn seemed to suggest that's what chicks did, and the reason dudes didn't talk about doing it was coz they wanted to watch or talk about chicks doing it.

He lay down in the darkness. He was hard already; maybe it was the wine they'd had after dinner, maybe it was remembering what had happened, maybe it was the soft caress of satin sheets against his bare skin or the decadent surroundings in the room and thinking about chicks that caused it; he wasn't sure, but he need release. 

His hand shifted between his legs, and he quietly stroked himself, trying to stifle murmurs which-- if you thought about it-- that was a stupid thing to do because it wasn't like anyone could hear them.

He was losing himself, arching upwards into the friction and the warmth, biting his bottom lip as he gripped the base of his cock, thoughts racing through his head, the desperation to forget that it was his own hand and imagine it being someone else's clear in his mind. 

He shifted, kicking the covers off him as he adjusted his position, slicking a cum-moistened finger over his entrance, and moaning softly at the expectation of what would follow.

He swore when he heard the door open-and-shut, and realised that he was no longer alone.

The slow movement and a glimpse of blonde hair suggested Klavier had woken and been escorted to the guest room.

Then came the chuckle, and he knew it wasn't Klavier.

He swore again in the darkness. 

"Is something the matter?" Kristoph's voice concealed another laugh, it was smug and irritatingly  _knowing_.

"What do you want?" Daryan hissed, humiliation having pushed him towards aggression. 

"Is that any way to talk to your host?" Kristoph chuckled again in the darkness. The only way Daryan could tell where he was was from where the noise came from. Oddly enough, his snapping at Kristoph hadn't caused the older man to retreat-- he was somewhere towards the end of the bed now.

"I heard a noise and wondered if there was a problem."

Daryan chuckled nastily to himself.  _A problem_. That could be one way of describing it. 

"If there's a problem," he sneered, "I don't think  _you_  could do anything about it." His voice was full of skeptical challenge, and he was expecting shocked silence or maybe a grunt of disgust from the older, polite, eternally calm Gavin brother. Klavier would have laughed and maybe wrestled him, teased him about it-- or flirted, depending on his mood and level of intoxication. 

Not that he'd have minded, Daryan realised, though he pushed that thought to the back of his head.

He wasn't expecting to feel the weight of a body on the end of his bed, sitting close to where his feet were.

Nor was he expecting Kristoph's smooth voice to offer-- " _Try_  me."

It was Daryan who fell silent at the invitation. Just how far could he push Kristoph, anyway?  _Was_  the man even interested in other guys? Or was it some way of putting him in his place, rising to the challenge? 

Who would chicken out first?

He snorted, shuffling towards Kristoph, with the growing realisation that this would be the second time he'd done something with another guy-- if anything happened-- and wondering if that made him gay. No. Not really: Klavier was his best friend and that was experimentation, and shit like that happened all the time and this was just getting something out of a situation when you were desperate for some godamned  _release_.

"Suck me off then, man," he chuckled, as rudely and harshly as he could manage. He couldn't quite keep his voice steady, and he wanted to figuratively see the whites of Kristoph's eyes-- of course, in the darkness, he couldn't see  _any_ thing-- but he longed to psych him out. Make him gulp and run-- only with Kristoph, it would probably be a casual laugh and a  _slink_  away. 

You didn't just go barging in on people when they were in bed.

Kristoph moved slightly; the weight on the bed shifted again, and flicked on a small lamp on top of an empty, simple-looking book case.

"There are condoms in the top drawer next to you," he said, still sounding amused.

This time it was Daryan who froze. Now looking at Kristoph in the soft amber light, he noticed that he wasn't wearing the elegant blue suit any more, but a dressing gown; dove-grey and silk, from the looks of it. He was still wearing his glasses, and looked as though he'd been ready for bed himself, disturbed whilst lying down having a nocturnal read before sleep.

Something about the way he was looking at Daryan made him nervous. It was the seriousness. The way he glimpsed at the bedside table as though encouraging. 

"You put rubbers in your  _guest room_?" he asked incredulously.

Kristoph smiled. "It would be irreponsible of me to invite my younger brother and his  _partner_  to stay the night and to not think ahead," he said simply.

The way he spoke, he made everything sound so logical and  _normal_.

There was another brief silence between them, and then Kristoph tilted his head slightly. "Now-- as for your previous request..."

Daryan could feel his skin bristling with anticipation. He was so utterly serious about it, and now  _he_  was in the position he'd thought he'd be putting Kristoph in. 

"Are you sure you want to?" he asked nervously.

Kristoph merely smiled and nodded, glancing again at the rounded handle on the top drawer. Daryan reached over tentatively, holding the sheets over his body with his other hand as his left moved around the drawer and he pulled out a strip of condoms. Breaking one off, and trying not to look at Kristoph, he threw the rest back into the drawer and knocked it closed.

Kristoph shuffled further up the bed and watched as the younger man's hand slipped beneath the sheets and he touched himself, a few delicate and casual strokes-- before his hand whipped out and he retrieved the plastic packet and tore it open. He could see Daryan's eyes, avoiding him pointedly; and forced himself not to smile. It appeared that his brother's arrogant friend was now quite  _shy_  and uneasy-- and provoking volatile individuals could lead to nasty repercussions-- he knew that much. People were animals at the end of the day-- and animals were prone to attack when fearful.

Reaching under the covers, Daryan placed the condom onto himself-- he knew his body well enough through touch alone, and had a reasonable idea of what he was doing, but the way Kristoph had called his bluff and was now continuing what he'd started was unexpected and unnerving at the least.

He looked up when he was done, his eyes meeting the older man's, and he smiled, opening his mouth slightly, allowing Kristoph a glimpse at pointed, potentially dangerous, sharklike teeth. Kristoph smiled at the gesture-- his cockiness was still there, and he drew a simple likeness between the younger man and the fish he resembled-- both were sleek and attractive in their own way, both had the aggression and means of looking after themselves-- and both weren't overly intelligent.

He licked his lips and tilted his gaze towards the sheets covering Daryan's body. "So," he said idly. "Do you still want me to do as you asked, then?" 

Daryan nodded, nervous, but still somehow turned on. There was something unsettled about the older man-- the cynic in him couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the surface of anyone who seemed too cool and smooth and decent to be true-- had he found Kristoph's dirty little corner? He wondered what Klavier knew about his older brother, and for some reason, the idea of being sucked off by him-- right under Klavier's nose and without his awareness-- now that would be  _creepy_  if he knew-- was oddly satisfying.

Kristoph smirked. "You're very quiet, all of a sudden," he said smugly-- "All bark, aren't you, Daryan?"

There was a chuckle as he tugged on the sheets around the younger man's body. He watched as slender and calloused fingers released them, revealing a skinny body, still awkwardly gangly, with little ripples of wiry muscle appearing beneath pallid skin. He looked smooth and inviting, like a sculpture which didn't know how to pose properly, with a pile of sheets coyly positioned over his lap, a telltale  _oddness_  to the way the fabric fell giving his arousal away.

Maybe he  _was_  shy. And it wouldn't do any good to embarrass him about it-- for the moment, Kristoph ignored Daryan's request and nervousness, and shifted closer to him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Daryan was now angry, and he darted away. "I don't want anything all  _girly_  like  _that_!" He scooted backwards along the mattress, stopped by a hand placed behind him and a finger pressed to his lips. "Klavier is asleep in the next room," Kristoph warned him gently. "I'm sure your best friend does  _not_  wish to see his older brother and his best friend engaged in activities which would most likely horrify him."

Daryan wasn't sure about that, but he did  _not_  want to be thinking about the prospect of Klavier waking up and walking in at that moment. Or any soon afterwards, for that matter. He forced himself to fall silent as Kristoph moved towards him, the arm behind his ass creeping up along his back; skilled fingertips running gently over his skin; the hand against his lips moving behind his neck and pulling him closer.

He could smell something on Kristoph's breath, the alcoholic deadness of mouthwash, he suspected-- and closed his eyes. He could think it was a chick if it wasn't for the firmness of the other man's grip and the size and texture of his hands-- and then there were the hard, very short and invisible hairs brushing against his lips, the way Kristoph's shoulders felt-- broad and solid and distinctly unfeminine-- under his fingers.

"I don't--" he started to say, but Kristoph pulled back and pressed a finger to his lips again.

" _I_  don't do things in a half-cocked fashion," Kristoph said coolly. "The idea of swiftly fumbling about and hoping for orgasm to magically happen isn't the way I've  _ever_  done things," he stated. "Nor is it the manner in which I'd prefer to be remembered."

 _Typical_. Klavier had mentioned that the man was a perfectionist and a workaholic and sometimes seemed entirely devoid of fun; Daryan wondered if he was going to somehow suck the fun out of  _this_ , as well.

He didn't dwell on the thought as a moist, careful tongue met his closed lips. Kissing hadn't been part of the deal, but the shock and the curiousity caused his own mouth to open; then there was the warmth and taste of Kristoph's breath and saliva against the inside of his mouth, his tongue pushing into him and darting away from his own, seeking out an unexplored crevice of mouth or spiralling, tantalising, against his own.

He wasn't going to pretend it was a chick any more, kissing him, because chicks didn't kiss like that-- at least, none of the ones he'd been with had. His mouth widened, he wanted to take more of Kristoph in; he wanted to somehow repay him for this,  _I'm sorry I underestimated you, dude_ \-- and felt a hand at his spine, kneading the skin firmly, the other now running down his chest, mapping his skin, feeling him.

He broke away from the kiss to murmur as fingertips brushed over a nipple-- he'd never really been into that stuff before, but the way Kristoph's hands moved against him, he  _wanted_  to be touched.  _Everywhere_. As if to drive the point home, he shifted under the other man's grasp, spreading his legs a little wider apart and pushing upwards, insistent and blatant.

"Shhh," Kristoph warned him, reaching for another kiss fluidly, the hand which had been moving against Daryan's back now finding its way beneath satin sheets and across his thigh. He broke away again. "Is this...?" he started to ask, as the younger man in his grip interrupted him with a hurried, frantic plea and a buck of his hips. " _Yes_ ," he gasped, writhing to feel Kristoph's touch. "Fuck yes..."

Daryan let out a gasp as Kristoph gently tugged the sheets away to expose his erection. 

"Shhhh," Kristoph hissed softly, eyes now focussed on the younger man's, "We don't want to wake anyone, do we?" His breath was warm against the tender flesh of inner thigh skin, and Daryan whimpered quietly, a hand meeting his mouth, pointed teeth biting into a crooked finger in order to silence himself.

Kristoph gazed up at him. He looked beautiful like that. 

He wondered just how far he could go with this; if Daryan would just settle for a blowjob or if he could be convinced into further activity. At this stage, watching the way he was tensed and desperate, Kristoph suspected it wouldn't be difficult. He wrapped a hand around the other man's cock, feeling the smoothness of the latex covering him and the stiffness beneath, and with a knowing smirk, opened his mouth slightly to take him between his parted lips.

" _Jeez_." Daryan threw his head back, long black hair cascading down the back of his neck, his resolve for silence now gone. And Kristoph, in that position, couldn't offer any suggestion to keep quiet; if Klavier  _did_  wake up and wander in, so be it, he figured. It would be undignified but forgivable. 

He groaned as he felt Kristoph's mouth-- all heat and pressure and a tongue that seemed ridiculously skilled in contrast to the man he thought he'd seen before-- superbly polite, almost  _chaste--_  Kristoph Gavin most definitely knew what he was doing. He murmured again as the pressure increased, teasing him, as he took him in further, pulling back a little and--

This was the sort of thing he wanted to tell Klavier about, but he  _couldn't_ \-- because, dude-- who would want to hear that their brother gave great head and stuff-- and that he had this way of running his fingers under you, touching skin that trembled and spasmed like you were completely buzzed-- and then--

He pushed his back down into the mattress. Modesty was long-forgotten and his neck arched forwards, anxious to watch the older man so dutifully working him into a state of anxious bliss. His legs felt tight and heavy-- Daryan pushed them further apart and tilted his hips upwards--  _Yeah, man, c'mon_ \-- keeping an eye out for enough eye contact from Kristoph to know that he was  _definitely_  not the only one enjoying himself.

A guttural moan-- something between shock, horror, and completely surprised gratitude-- escaped him when he felt the tip of Kristoph's finger running over his asshole. This wasn't what he was expecting; he and Klavier had  _sort of_  done that but not really, and anyway, all he'd asked for was a blowjob... but he couldn't deny that the combination of the pressure and that excellent motion against his dick combined with his finger doing that-- felt good.

He thrashed backwards as Kristoph increased his speed, no longer looking up at him every so often, lost in what he was doing. His head spun and his eyelids fluttered; another groan escaped him as Kristoph's touch grew bolder, his fingertip lightly pressing into Daryan's entrance, teasing once more.

Kristoph hadn't quite expected this sort of response from his brother's friend. He'd assumed there'd have been some more resistance on Daryan's part, more denial, not this thrashing, quivering collection of nerves and hormones already worked into a frenzy.

And then he jerked away, suddenly, falling back against the pillows behind him, black hair tangling into itself and sprawled against the satin casing. His eyes were half-closed and he whined pathetically-- " _Dude_ \--" and he seemed caught at the crossroads of longing for release in that moment and wishing to prolong their situation.

Kristoph pulled back, smirking, the only suggestion that he was at all unruffled being the soft, quick breaths which left him. He shifted back to study his handiwork, and chuckled to himself.

Reaching over unexpectedly, his bare arm brushed Daryan's as he made a move for the chest of drawers next to the bed. With a knowing smile, he grabbed the handle and opened it, producing another condom, and wordlessly, he tore it open, his hands moving beneath the folds of his robe to prepare himself.

Daryan tensed; this was going to be weird; it was one thing when it was your best friend, it was another when it was someone  _else_ , someone older, someone who you couldn't just laugh about it afterwards with. His breaths escaped in jagged spurts, and his hand tightened around his length. He wanted to stroke himself to climax but then there was Kristoph, and he kind of wanted him to-- 

But it was nervewracking, in a way. 

"Don't tell me you're  _new_  to this?" Kristoph asked quietly. He raised an eyebrow. "I know Klavier isn't."

Whether that spurned some sort of subconscious competitive streak in him or whatever, it made Daryan move forwards and look the older man in the eye. Not giving too much consideration to what he'd just said, he parted his lips, revealing gleaming, razor sharp white teeth and what he hoped was a seductive smile. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not scared, you know," he said defiantly.

"Well... come here then." Kristoph didn't wait for Daryan to shift near him; with a graceful  _swish_  he moved in towards Daryan, one hand pushing his robe open and grasping himself, the other clasping firmly against Daryan's neck. Daryan twitched at the sudden movement and the rough handling; sure, it was  _hot_ , but...

 _But what_? His mind could protest and make pitiful excuses, but his body felt  _good_. He moaned as Kristoph's lips brushed softly down his neck and collarbone, his tongue darting out every so often, teasing him, causing him to clench up involuntarily.

"You're not getting too excited there, are you?" Kristoph murmured. "Because there's so much more I'd like to be doing than just... this..." He shifted upwards again, moving even closer; Daryan could smell  _him_  now, not just the mouthwash he'd used prior to appearing in his room. There was something light and simple about his scent; it wasn't quite female, but it wasn't at all strong and  _male_ \-- there was a crispness to him, and something resembling soap. He could feel his own skin, sticky with his own perspiration and wondered what Kristoph thought.

It appeared that he either hadn't noticed, or didn't care.

He pushed himself back into the pillows behind him, his pulse and heart racing as Kristoph's hand strayed between his legs once more, his own tentatively reaching across to finally touch him. His eyes moved downwards and he concentrated on the wrinkles of the bedsheets; he couldn't quite look-- that would be wrong--  _ish_... wouldn't it-- and he heard a soft chuckle against his ear again. "Like I said, Daryan-- you're all bark, aren't you?"

"N-no..." He couldn't help the way his voice shuddered like that; he was scared that all it would take would be another featherlight touch and he'd be a writhing mess, coming too early, the perfect joke to be shared with Klavier at some later stage when he wasn't around.

"It's all right..." A finger traced underneath him, toying with sensitive skin and moving backwards. "I'm not bothered..."

Daryan glanced downwards. Kristoph was just as hard as he was, and he tentatively ran a hand over his length, distracted by his own shyness and Kristoph's increasingly bold movements underneath him. He jerked slightly as he was unexpectedly penetrated again, feeling the other man's free hand push him backwards again and offer an appreciative sigh. His other hand now casually pawing at Kristoph, brushing over soft bare skin and occasionally brushing the cool fabric of the robe he'd been wearing; he felt weak and overwhelmed, his movements futile and pathetic. 

Kristoph either didn't notice, or didn't care. He made a small murmur of approval and offered Daryan a sly smile, his hand now pressed over Daryan's, guiding him, urging him to increase the pressure and the speed of his strokes.

Daryan closed his eyes, overwhelmed. He could feel Kristoph in his hand, his own hand on Kristoph, warm breath against his skin, another finger slip into him then and words mingled with little mumbles of what could only be pleasure surrounding them both. In hindsight, he might look back and have considered trying to distract himself, but Kristoph was already proving himself the ultimate in distraction.

He felt Kristoph's hand shift to his inner thighs, fingernails running satin-soft and yet threateningly  _sharp_  over his skin, and he gulped as Kristoph shifted around then as though trying to get comfortable.

"I want you, Daryan," he mumbled, his voice a curious mixture of amusement, admiration and exhausted-- "I want to..."

Shifting himself again under Kristoph's weight, tilting his hips upwards and with a voice in similar tones to the older man's, Daryan replied-- "Just do it." There was a terseness and and urgency-- as though he might just come-- or chicken out-- there, and Kristoph reached for the lubricant again.

"When you ask like  _that_ ," he said huskily, "I don't think I could deny you anything."

Daryan stifled a moan as Kristoph threw the container somewhere beside the bed and slathered the liquid over him. He shifted; it shouldn't have felt this weird, but it  _did_ ; sure he'd used lube before-- but there was a difference between that and someone  _else_  doing it and the haphazard manner in which Kristoph applied it. It seemed out of sorts for him, quick and desperate-- but so did the noises coming from Kristoph; soft little grunts which he couldn't quite control. 

He reached out to return to stroking him; it was the least he could do and it would take his mind off his own apprehension.

Realisation of physical attributes made him flinch again, and he heard Kristoph's voice in his ear once more, and felt that hand shifting towards his cock, stroking him firm and tight, just like how he--

"Urrrgh..." He closed his eyes, desperately hoping the other man would just get it over with-- before anything  _happened_ \-- and was met with a light chuckle. In his hand, Kristoph felt enormous... and he wanted to...

"I'll take my time, if you wish," he whispered, "I'm just concerned that you seem..."

"Just--" Daryan bit down on his bottom lip, eyes shut and body tense. 

There was nothing; brief movement of fingers against him, Kristoph shifting himself and drawing closer, his other hand running over his coke at a frustrating pace and then...

He swore as Kristoph penetrated him and shifted uncomfortably as he was pushed down, and that mouth was clasped over his own to stifle his complaint. Kristoph pushed into him and then pulled back, one hand strokig him more furiously now, the other pressed into his hip, nails digging into his skin, not quite hurting him and not quite--

Another moan from him moments later, and his head felt like it was spinning-- somehow this had managed to feel  _good_ \-- still frustrating with that whole being on the edge of climax thing, but not  _just_  frustrating.

He wondered why Klavier had never talked about this if he'd done it.

Daring himself to open his eyes, he looked into Kristoph's face; he was a tangle of blonde waves and his face was tensed with concentration. He moved against him, thrusting rhythmically, little grunts and murmurs somehow breaking free amongst mumbled German. Taking the initiative, Daryan pushed back roughly against him, plunging into his mouth with his own, aggressive and desperate. The pain had gone now; all he was aware of was the sensation; Kristoph rocking against him, the lubricant slick on his skin, the other man's hand jerking him off furiously, and the nip of teeth which weren't his against his bottom lip as his tongue pushed into the other's throat. He could feel a hand grasping at his hair, there was movement and--

He swore into Kristoph's mouth when he came, finally getting his release. His body felt limp, overcome with the waves of orgasm; he could feel Kristoph still thrusting into him; when he collapsed into the pillows completely, catching his breath, he heard an animalistic moan screamed into his ear, then felt everything relax; the grip in his hair and on his cock gone; Kristoph shifting again and attempting to compose himself and he rolled over and attempted to pull the sheets over him.

He wasn't sure what to do, what he  _should_  do; they'd momentarily lost the need for words and it wasn't like there was anything between them which needed to be said. He felt Kristoph's hand on his back, running over his bare skin with something like appreciation, felt sweaty skin pressed over him, and an affectionate hand running through his hair again, and a whisper-- "Sleep now?", a soft kiss pressed to one shoulder, and then Kristoph's weight leave the bed, footsteps on the floor, and then the door creak and close.

  
He woke early, startled when he realised that there was someone curled next to him, and a quick glance revealed that no-- that blonde hair belonged to the  _younger_  Gavin-- and the covers moved as Klavier turned slightly.

"Sorry, man... I woke up in the middle of the night and..."

The smell of sweat and sex had not left the room, however, and the expression on Klavier's face conveyed that he recognised it all too well.

His mouth fell open and he blinked, wordlessly, before rolling over and going back to sleep.


End file.
